Meet Native America
by Shalbriri Kiseki
Summary: Hetalia is missing Native America. I can't have that! So, Meet Native America! The shy, lazy little savage who makes handicrafts for a living! How can you hate her? You're about to find out. WARNING, OC and occasional YAOI. They're all short. Dunno why.
1. Chapter 1

_**CHENOA – Native American Name, meaning DOVE**_

--

A tall, tan-skinned female sat, dark hair hanging just below her waist, olive green eyes resting on the bickering two in front of her. She was easily ignored, and few believed she really counted as a country. They just thought she was a person that lived in the same house as the colony. That was all.

Meet Native America. The girl with the headdress. The girl that isn't afraid to fight.

"Arthur, please-"

"This is not over, _America_."

The door was slammed in Arthur's face. A teenager, he was. So young, so stupid. His innocence and naïveté was the only reason she was around him in the first place Arthur hadn't even known she existed. Tch. British men.

Not that Alfred was much better.

"Chenoa...?"

Native America perked up at her real name, head tilting. "Yes, child?" She asked calmly, quietly.

"Chenoa, is wanting to be my on my own such a bad thing?"

The tan skinned woman had to think about that. If she said no, it was not, then he would fight. He would fight with everything he had. Against England. She believed in no. But... if she said yes, he would take back what he said, apologize to England, and everything would be normal again. She liked normal.

Chenoa frowned. "Alfred, know that whatever you choose to do, I will not back up your decision. Should you go to war, you may or may not have other allies. Should you decide against war, you will have to deal with the taxes alone."

She stared, watching the fire burst behind blue eyes. "Chenoa, I'm going to war."

The so-called 'indian' gave a bright smile. "Good. Nobody likes that nasty Arthur, anyway."

* * *

_**Just the beginning of my introduction to a character that doesn't exist. Chenoa is my character, but if anyone wants to use her (And who would want to?) that's fine. I'm trying to put in the stereotypes, but that'll have to wait until later.**_

_**This'll probably be just random drabbles about her. And it will probably have USxUK in it, or FrancexUK, or something along those lines. Don't worry. I will warn you in the case that they come up.  
My next chapter must be craaack. .__. Because this one was too... I don't know... based off the 4th of July? Independence day?**_

_**Am I the ony American who hates Independence day? I feel so unpatriotic.**_

I love my Chenoa. She's so special.


	2. Chapter 2

America was laughing hard, leaving the dark haired woman to pout. "What is so funny, American?" She asked slowly.

America just kept laughing. It remained that way until the woman pushed him to the floor, kicked him, and glared. America was still laughing, however, as he spoke. "B-Because..." He breathed. "You... said... your name meant..." He couldn't finish, tears poured from his eyes.

"Dove." Chenoa mumbled. "You wanted to know, I told you."

America continue to laugh until Chenoa kicked him hard enough to end all sounds. He wheezed, clutching his side, and coughed. "S-Sorry!" He whispered, rolling onto his back and groaning in pain. "B-But you're nothing like a dove at all!"

She kicked him again. "Learn some tact, Mr. Supernaturally Wise." She snorted, turning her heel.

"S-Supernaturally-"

"Arthur told me."

Alfred stared at her in shock. "Supernaturally Wise?!"

And Chenoa laughed, this time, giggle erupting into full blown laughter until Alfred was the pouting mess. She fell onto the couch, and he grumbled something, raising his foot and nudging her with it before deciding to get something to eat.

* * *

_**Well... I looked up Alfred's name on the internet, SERIOUSLY half expecting it to mean 'hero' or 'god-like'.  
Nope. Supernaturally Wise. And I laughed so fuckin' hard. xD You have no idea. I just found that funny since he doesn't believe in fairies...  
Ah, of course you know that. Poor Arthur. Gah, his name means Champion, Follower of Thor**_. _**Who is Thor? Beats me.  
The next one is gonna be AlfredxArthur, USAxUK, USUK, etc. In that order. Just a heads up.  
Review, my darlings?**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chenoa is not speaking at all during any of this, if you think so. I know I screwed around with the dialogue a bit, but I'm too lazy to change it, sorry. xD  
OH! RIGHT! WARNING! THERE IS SOME CHENOA-IMPLIED YAOI INVOLVED! Because Chenoa knows all, and she knows what will become of them.  
. . . Has anyone else noticed how this happens a lot? USUK, FranceCanada, ChinaJapan (Even if I'm totally GreeceJapan for no reason), SpainRomano... The list goes on, ne? AustriaHungary, too, I think. Iunno. -shrug- I'm done wasting time with this head-note (at least that's what I think you call it. If the bottom is a footnote... eh.)**_

* * *

She stood among the ruin as Alfred stood, staring down the British man who was kneeling on the ground. "I've won, Arthur." Those three words were going to tear England's heart open.

Good. He deserved it, for getting her sick.

"N-No... No, you haven't. I refuse to let you win."

She stood against the tree, back pressed against the bark, closing her eyes. Such a tragic tale, she thought.

"Arthur, it's over."

America sounded desperate. She snorted. _She_ was even calling him America, now. Wasn't _she_, technically, America? She didn't really mind, though.

"Damn Francis."

So he was blaming the Frenchman, now? Poor England. He could just admit he lost and go home. He was probably bleeding. Chenoa was too lazy to turn her head and check.

"Arthur. Just give me my independence..."

"No! I can't lose you!"

Chenoa covered her mouth. Was that a confession? Oh, she knew it! She knew it! "I can't... I...I..." Oh, she was waiting, now. Waiting for something to happen...

"Arthur."

Oh, why did America have to go and ruin it? She waited in the silence, opening her eyes and glancing around. "A-Alright." She stiffened. Did England just agree?

Was this good or bad?

She really shouldn't be here...

"Alfred, when I do this, y-you do know what you're g-getting into?"

Why was he stuttering? Englishman didn't stutter. They were ruthless, evil, didn't care about anything but themselves. They _weren't_ weak. Chenoa surely wouldn't have been defeated by him if he was weak.

"Of course I do."

"Nutter." Chenoa laughed silently. English terms were so confusing. She was glad she learned this language, but some things just confused her. "France is going to turn on you, try to take your land. So is Spain. They aren't your friends. I will not help you, understand?"

That part made her stop. France would never! It was _her_ land, not _Alfred's, _not_ Francis'_. And Spain... didn't Spain have that cute little kid? Why would he need more land? Now that she thought about it, France had someone, too. She didn't remember the name...

"Arthur, please."

"...I... Arthur Kirkland... England... D-Declare Alfred Jones... Republic of the United States of America... as an independent nation..."

Native America heard he sound of metal and wood hitting the ground. "...show ...ou." She couldn't pick up everything he was saying. "I'll show you tha... e inde...dent, too. ... live on my own." She tried to piece things together.

"You'll regret it, arsehole."

Okay, England was speaking louder.

"It's asshole, englishman."

Chenoa didn't quite understand the joke, focusing, instead, on the pitter patter of feet. Once the sound left her ears, the tan skinned woman dropped to the floor, crawling from her spot in hiding even though that wasn't necessary. Her nose picked up the metallic smell of blood, and, unlucky for her, her hands met something wet and sticky. She paused to stare at them. They were red.

Olive eyes glanced ahead, where the trail thickened and became a pool of blood, and then behind, where the trail was spurratic – from random drops to a line – and most likely continuous into the town. She stared at the blood on her hands, standing and flicking her index finger against it. She then proceeded to paint.

She painted a picture of Alfred, standing tall, and England, shorter than he currently was. She painted it as such, with care, making sure there was no blood sliding down her art to screw it up. She did this a lot, after all. She was good at it. She drew Alfred's arm around the British man, grinning, with Arthur a blushing mess.

And, finally, she wrote above, in plain, English lettering,

'A+E'

Before turning her heel and running off, managing quite well on her bare feet.

* * *

_**The plus was a heart in word. Grr. Oh will, it'll just have to look like the American Eagle sign in my eyes.  
Yeah. So, Chenoa is smart like that. Still haven't got much stereotype in though. Hm. I guess I got ignored, violent, and lazy, as well as paints with berries and shiz. xD  
I'm already sick of stereotyping, it makes me feel like a hypocrite. But, oh well. I like my Chenoa. She's my baby. -cuddle-  
Review for my sanity?**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**I have totally forgotten every single fact I learned in my History class. xD So really, I just wrote for my sanity. Because I write to get rid of my feelings, odd as it sounds. This feeling was . . . well, hurt, I guess. xD I forget now, see? It works!  
Maybe it's because I'm watching Spongebob now. Oh, god, how I love Spongebob. He's gonna be in my next drabble. I swear. So it'll be happy.**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

She twitched as Alfred rubbed the back of his head, giving _that_ _look_ again. "I'm... I'm sorry, Chenoa, but my population is-"

"Save it, _America_."

The blond winced, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry, Chenoa. I really don't want to, but my boss said if I didn't then we'd be in big trouble. Please don't make me fight you over this." Alfred was such a child... such a child...

And that was why Chenoa agreed in the first place. Stupid blond boy and his wide eyes and quivering lips. She knew that she'd grow to hate him, hate him more than England. She knew, but she let her eyes slip closed anyway. "Alright, Alfred."

-

This time, she stood, bow in hand, pulling a quiver from her bag. "I've suffered enough." She whispered, and Alfred just stood, tears brimming his eyes. "I've suffered so much for you, Alfred, because you were a child and didn't know better. I'm dying, Alfred. Dying."

Alfred only rose his gun, pointing it at her left arm. "I'm sorry, Chenoa. I really am. You're the mother I've always wanted."

They both shot. Alfred's hit dead on, but no pain hit America. He blinked tears away, looking to the side to find Chenoa's shot far to the side. He cringed. "I'm sorry, Native America. I'm so, so sorry." But he knew for a fact that it was too late for her. He walked over to the bleeding nation, picking her up, careful of her limp arm. "But... Manifest Destiny..."

"I know, America. I know."

She was awake. Tears fell from the young nation's eyes. "I'm so _sorry_, Chenoa."

Chenoa gave a dry laugh. "I'm going to hate you from now on, Alfred."

Chenoa's eyes slipped closed, and Alfred dipped his head. "I know.

* * *

_**I don't see the point of writing in front and back.  
But eh.  
My 'f' key is messing with me. Anyone know how to fix it? It makes a weird sound that sounds kinda like a click, like I keep putting it back in place every time I hit it.  
But it's not back in place. I have to slam it to get it to work. I hate the F key. Grr.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**As promised, this one is about Spongebob. Yay. Because I adore that show. I know most of them by heart, I swear. And since Spongebob is known all over the world, I thought, "Why not?" Because if you don't like Spongebob, you got issues. Seriously. ****I LOVE SPONGEBOB.**

**I must apologize for not updating, but I just haven't had the muse for it. As it is, I think they're pretty OoC in this one, but maybe that's because they're watching Spongebob. xD Whatever. Enjoy the crack-ness.  
**

* * *

May 1st, 1999.

Spongebob first airs on television.

Chenoa sighed loudly as she sat down next to the hyperactive man. "Ohhh~ Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?!" Alfred sang, knowing the song by heart even though this was only the first airing. He had gotten a behind the scenes look, and he loved it with all of his heart. It was the best show. "Spongebob Squarepants!" Alfred rocked, swaying side to side and irritating his Native American friend. "Absorbant and Yellow and porous is he!"

"...Alfred-"

"Spongebob Squarepants!"

"_Al_fred-"

"If nautical nonsense be something you wish!"

"_Alfred-_"

"Spongebob Squarepants!"

Chenoa sighed, obviously not being heard. "_ALFRED_."

"THEN DROP ON THE DECK AND FLOP LIKE A FISH!" Alfed shouted over her, grinning, laughing.

Chenoa groaned, tilting her head back and allowing the man to continue his incessant singing. She had agreed to watch the new TV show, not hear the American scream his lungs out. Alfred continued to sing, approaching the screen and keeping his eyes at an unhealthy distance. Chenoa growled, pulling his collar. "Alright. I get it. You adore this show. Down, boy."

"Looklooklook~ It's starting~" He pointed at the screen, grinning.

Chenoa's face fell. "It's... a... sponge..."

"Yep!"

"...At a fast food resturant..."

"Yep!"

"...Applying for a job?"

"Mhmm~"

Chenoa rolled her eyes, knowing she would not like this.

–

In the end, Chenoa was staring at the screen an unhealthy distance, as was Alfred. "NO! WHAT'S THE SECRET FORMULA!?" She hissed, leaning back and groaning. "Damn you, Spongebob makers!"

Alfred was laughing loudly. "Wasn't that GREAT?!"

"Everyone in the world is going to love this show."

Alfred clung to Chenoa now, both laughing. "...Even Arthur?"

"Especially Arthur." Alfred grinned, cheerful, nodding his head and letting his laughter die down. "So..." The Native American whispered. "When's... the next one?"

Alfred's grin grew. "Look at the screen." The intro to the show played again, and this time Chenoa sang along.

Spongebob Squarepants. The universal show that brings kids together.

We love you, Spongebob.


End file.
